


just give me one more quiet night

by iambic_pulse



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Awkward Luke, Blow Jobs, Gentle Sex, It's just Lashton for now; Calum and Michael make an appearance in later chapters, M/M, Multi, Sad Ashton, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-27
Updated: 2016-03-27
Packaged: 2018-05-29 13:32:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6377212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iambic_pulse/pseuds/iambic_pulse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ashton needs to be needed, but now that they're all older and his bandmates are more independent, they probably don't need him quite so much anymore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	just give me one more quiet night

When it comes down to it, Ashton probably doesn’t give his band enough credit. It’s a thought that’s been bouncing around in his brain for a while now, but he always shoves it away and tells himself he’ll think about it when the time is right.

He has a sinking feeling that now, six days away from Calum's twentieth birthday, might be that time.

He’s currently sprawled across his sofa in his and Calum’s new apartment, some movie playing on his laptop, but it's all just empty sounds that buzz around his ears and random flashes of colour in his peripheral vision, because he's long stopped paying attention to it in favour of staring at the ceiling. It's only slightly less pathetic than staring at his phone screen as he waits for the text from Luke saying that he's landed and is on his way over.

Because that's what they do now. They fly individually, because they all have their own lives and can make their own decisions; because Calum is going to be twenty in less than a week and Michael already _is_ and it won't be long before Luke joins the club too; because _no, Ash, it's fine, you don't have to come and meet me at the airport, I can make my own way._

And that's okay. Really. It's _natural_. It's probably healthy too; the four of them have been glued at the hips for far longer than anyone should be, even when they're best friends and... something else.

None of that stops Ashton from grabbing his phone the moment it buzzes, and the way the tension in his shoulders just dissipates when he reads the measly four words Luke has sent him ( _Landed. On my way._ ) only serves to remind him how utterly ridiculous he is. It hasn't even been two weeks since Ashton last saw Luke, and barely a couple of days since they last Facetimed, but still, it's a relief. To know that Luke still exists, to know that he’s still alive and in one piece, to know that in less than an hour, he’ll be right here, falling asleep on top of Ashton.

Ashton texts back a quick _see you soon_ and turns back to his movie, only to find that it’s gone by much quicker than he’d thought, he’s missed several key plot points and now none of it makes any sense. So he gives his attention back to the ceiling once more and silently laments that “soon” isn’t soon enough. It's only slightly less pathetic than staring at the door as he waits for Luke to knock.

When the knock finally comes, Ashton jumps to his feet and dashes to open the door. He deliberately pauses for a couple of seconds with his hand on the doorknob, because even though it’s just Luke, who Ashton knows will never judge him for sitting and wallowing in his own thoughts, he really doesn’t fancy having the whole “Are you okay?” conversation that tends to happen at times like this.

Luke smiles widely at him when Ashton does eventually open the door. The bags under his eyes say that he’s exhausted, but he somehow also looks happy and relaxed and _only six months away from turning twenty_.

“So...can I come in?” says Luke after a moment.

“Oh!” says Ashton as he realises that he’s just been staring at Luke in creepy silence for several seconds. “Yeah, sorry.”

He steps aside to let Luke in and closes the door after him. He turns around and starts to ask Luke how his flight was, but Luke interrupts him before he can finish a single word.

“Are you trying to save on electricity or something?”

“What?”

“Lights, Ash,” says Luke, waving his hand vaguely, and it’s only then that Ashton realises how dark it had grown while he was lying pathetically staring at the ceiling. His own eyes are adjusted enough to the darkness, but when he switches on the light he realises how odd it must have been for Luke to walk into.

“Sorry,” says Ashton. “I was just. Napping.”

Luke nods, in the slightly enigmatic way that he generally does when Ashton doesn’t tell him the whole truth.

“Tell me you have food?” says Luke as he unceremoniously dumps his bag on the floor and kicks off his shoes. “I’m starving.”

“There’s bread,” says Ashton, wishing he’d had the foresight to do a bit of grocery shopping. “Or cereal. But no more milk, I used the last of it earlier.”

“Looks like it’s just toast then,” says Luke as he makes his way over to the sofa, and it takes Ashton way too long to realise that Luke is walking _away_ from the kitchen, which is where the toaster is located, which is the appliance one generally uses to make toast.

“Oh,” says Ashton. “I see how it is. Ashton, make me some toast. Ashton, do this. Ashton, do that. Ashton, I haven't been the centre of somebody’s world for five whole minutes, pay attention to me.”

“Ashton, suck my dick,” says Luke casually as he pulls Ashton’s laptop onto his lap and starts browsing through Netflix.

Ashton can’t help but smile. Maybe being Luke’s personal toast-maker isn’t his dream job but it’s a hell of a lot better than just lying in the dark with only his own head for company. It’s something to do to distract himself from all the thoughts swimming around in his brain.

“How was the flight?” asks Ashton as he busies himself in the kitchen. Luke shrugs and informs Ashton that he slept through most of it, and Ashton listens as Luke tells him about a weird dream he’d had about his dog turning out to be half-dragon and letting him ride on her back to school.

“School?” says Ashton, buttering Luke's toast before grabbing a couple of beers from the fridge.

“Yeah, I’ve been dreaming I’m back in school a lot lately,” says Luke. He pauses for a second and then says, “Maybe I’m subconsciously freaking out about becoming an adult.”

Ashton hands Luke the plate of toast and one of the beers and flops down on the sofa next to him. “Maybe,” he says.

There’s a moment of silence. Ashton stares at his laptop screen, an episode of _Bob’s Burgers_ ready to play on Netflix, but he can feel Luke staring at him. After a few seconds, Luke knocks their knees together and then presses play, settling back and finally taking his eyes off of Ashton’s face.

It’s not exactly _awkward_ as they watch and Luke eats, but Ashton is so very aware of everything that he’s finding it hard to concentrate on the actual show. It’s almost as if the crunch of Luke biting into his toast is louder than the show itself, and the mildly warm sensation of Luke’s skin against his own while their arms are pressed against each other is just short of scorching.

Luke eats slowly, managing to finish just as the episode ends. He reaches over and puts his plate down on the coffee table, pausing before Netflix can autoplay the next episode.

“You wanna watch another one?” he says, turning to Ashton.

Ashton shrugs. He wasn’t really watching that one anyway. “Sure.”

“Or not,” says Luke.

Ashton shrugs again. “Up to you.”

“Hey, Ash?”

“Mmm?”

Luke leans into Ashton, burying his nose in Ashton’s neck. “I haven’t been the centre of somebody’s world for five whole minutes. Pay attention to me.”

Ashton snorts, playfully pushing Luke away, but Luke just flops back down into him.

“You know,” says Ashton, “it was all nice and peaceful until you came along. I had time to myself, I got shit done.”

“You bought a zebra print rug,” says Luke, talking into Ashton’s neck. He snakes his arms around Ashton’s waist, clinging onto him like a limpet. “Zebra print, Ash. _Zebra print_.”

“I happen to like my rug,” says Ashton indignantly. “Don’t come into my home and insult my rug, I won’t stand for it.”

“See, this,” says Luke, shifting himself to lie on his back on the sofa and pulling Ashton down with him. They end up in a messy tangle of too-long legs, Ashton lying on top of Luke, who has his arms still locked tightly around Ashton’s waist. Their faces end up kind of smushed together, Ashton’s lips just touching the corner of Luke’s mouth. “This is what happens when you don't have us around to stop you making bad decisions. You start liking zebra print rugs. It’s pretty tragic.”

“Or maybe I’m just finally free to be who I really am without you holding me back,” Ashton retorts. “Zebra print has always been my passion and I’m not going to hide it anymore.” He chooses to ignore the ‘tragic’ comment because...well, he knows Luke’s only joking but if only he knew how right he is.

Luke angles his head slightly so that his lips meet Ashton’s properly, and he smiles. Ashton automatically smiles back, and somehow, a second later, they’re kissing, because that just seems like the natural thing to do when your lips are resting against your more-than-friend’s lips.

It’s not even something they think about anymore, being more-than-friends. It’s just something that happens these days, between the four of them. It’s all just...banding. They’ve never sat down and talked about it or put a label on it; Ashton doesn’t think they’ve ever needed to. It is what it is.

“You know,” says Luke quietly, pulling his lips away from Ashton’s to speak. “I wasn't actually kidding when I said you should suck my dick.”

“Wow, you’re so romantic, Luke,” says Ashton, managing to wriggle free from Luke’s arms and manoeuvring himself up onto his knees, straddling Luke. “I bet you say that to all your bandmates.”

“Only the three hot ones,” says Luke.

Ashton grins and doesn’t waste any time pulling his t-shirt off over his head. He tosses it away and leans down to kiss Luke on the lips again. He only means for it to be a quick peck, but Luke’s hand makes its way to the back of Ashton's neck, holding him gently in place, and he opens his mouth, inviting Ashton's tongue in.

And this is what Ashton loves so much about “banding” with Luke. Luke knows exactly what he wants, and he’s never shy about asking for it, whether his requests are verbal or physical. He’s so quietly sure about everything that it makes Ashton feel sure as well.

And if kissing is what Luke wants to do right now, Ashton is way more than okay with that. Because kissing Luke is an _experience_ , not in the out-of-this-world fireworks and chorus of angels sense, but because it’s grounding. The quiet little moans that Luke lets out, the way Luke’s left hand is tangled in Ashton’s hair and his right is running down Ashton’s back, it all reminds Ashton that he’s _real_ and he's _right_.

They take it slow, Ashton savouring every moment just because he can. He slides his tongue against Luke’s and brings his hands up to Luke’s face, caressing his cheeks as they both deepen the kiss at the same time. 

After several minutes, Luke lets out a quiet moan and tilts his head back just slightly, and Ashton takes his cue to move his lips to Luke’s neck, sucking softly at the flesh near his collarbone. He’ll probably leave a mark -- he usually does, and Luke always complains about it with a smile on his face.

It’s another couple of minutes until Luke tries to move them on again, curling his hand tighter in Ashton’s hair and rutting his hips up.

Ashton smiles as he sucks against Luke’s skin and pointedly ignores Luke’s movements. So Luke ruts up again, and a third time when Ashton ignores him again, before groaning.

“Can you just,” says Luke, slightly breathless.

“What?” says Ashton, mumbling the words into the already forming mark on Luke’s skin. He doesn’t _need_ Luke to ask, but he wants it. Not to tease Luke or make him beg -- there’s a time and a place for games like that, and this isn’t it -- but to just...hear him ask.

“ _Do_ something. With my dick,” says Luke impatiently. “Or your dick.”

“Like what?” says Ashton, still smiling.

“I don't care,” says Luke, rolling his hips up again. “You choose, just get me off.”

Ashton snorts with laughter. “You're the worst,” he says, pushing himself back up to straddle Luke again.

Luke looks up at him, a half smile on his lips, and he pushes himself up just enough to pull his shirt over his head and toss it in the same direction as Ashton’s. He falls back again with a thump and looks up at Ashton expectantly.

“Well, I can’t do anything with your dick while you’re still wearing these,” says Ashton, tugging lightly at the waistband of Luke’s jeans.

“Take ‘em off, then,” says Luke, still smiling slightly.

“Do I have to do everything around here?” mutters Ashton, rolling his eyes but unable to keep the smile from spreading across his face. He unbuttons and unzips Luke’s fly, but there’s not a lot more he can do with Luke in this position.

“You’re gonna have to move,” he says, to which Luke groans dramatically but allows Ashton to pull him up and shift them around so that Luke ends up sitting normally on the sofa while Ashton kneels in front of him. There’s yet more shuffling as Ashton pulls down Luke’s jeans and underwear at the same time, and Luke helps with precisely none of it, his hand simply moving to stroke his dick slowly.

“Okay,” says Ashton, resting his forehead against Luke’s knee after finally managing to pull Luke’s jeans off fully. “That was exhausting, I’m done.”

“How have we not learned to not wear skinny jeans yet?” says Luke. Ashton shakes his head, because really, they should have learned by now, or otherwise found an efficient way of removing them quickly, but it’s always something of a struggle.

“New band rule,” says Ashton, batting Luke’s hand away from his dick and stroking it himself. “Always naked from the waist down.”

Luke nods. “Fine by me.” He pauses for a second before nudging Ashton’s leg with his foot. “You're breaking the new band rule.”

Ashton smiles and places a kiss to the inside of Luke’s thigh. “I’ll get to it in a second.”

Luke nudges him again, a little harder this time. “It’s a band rule. If you don’t follow it -- ”

“You’ll kick me out of the band?”

Luke grins. “Good drummers are hard to find, so it’s really in everyone’s best interests that you take your pants off.”

“In a minute,” says Ashton, kissing Luke’s inner thigh again. He can see that Luke is about to open his mouth to argue again, so Ashton takes the tip of his cock into his mouth and sucks lightly, and the only sound that Luke makes is a quiet gasp. Ashton smirks, taking Luke a little deeper and looking up at him through his lashes.

“Fuck you,” says Luke, curling one hand lightly in Ashton's hair.

Ashton takes his mouth from Luke’s dick, still stroking it. “If you want,” he says.

Luke stares down at him for a moment, before saying, “Or fuck me?”

Ashton nods. “If you want.” He wraps his lips around Luke's cock again and listens intently to the way Luke sighs. Still, he takes it slow, just because he can, because they’ve got all night and all day tomorrow and however many days after that, and maybe that’s how long they could make this last. Maybe they could just spend every single day like this for the rest of their lives, languid kisses and roaming hands all over each others’ bodies.

Ashton alternates between working Luke's cock slowly with his hands and his mouth, nipping lightly at the inside of Luke's thighs every now and again. It's as much take as it is give for Ashton, because that's how it always is with them -- Ashton makes all the right movements and Luke makes all the right noises in response, each little whimper and whisper of Ashton's name traveling straight to Ashton's dick until it's straining hard against his jeans.

“Good?” says Ashton, after running his tongue along Luke’s length.

“Obviously,” says Luke. He tugs on Ashton's arm. “C’mere.”

Ashton follows Luke’s lead, standing up and then kneeling on the sofa over Luke. Luke pulls him closer, his hands resting perfectly on Ashton’s ass. His fingers tracing little patterns on Luke’s arms, Ashton presses a long, deep kiss to Luke’s lips and then moves down to Luke’s neck, his chest, his shoulders.

Meanwhile, Luke’s hands move to Ashton’s jeans, fumbling to unbutton them, and Ashton can't help but smile against Luke’s skin, because there’s Luke, getting his own way _again_ , and there’s really nothing that Ashton is more okay with than that. Ashton gasps quietly when his cock springs free, the cool air that washes over it contrasting perfectly with the sheer heat between their bodies.

Ashton grinds down, his dick sliding against Luke’s, drawing a throaty whine from Luke, the kind that Ashton loves so much.

“Do you have lube?” says Luke, his voice tight.

“Yeah,” says Ashton. “Bedroom.”

Luke nods and gives Ashton a gentle push. As Ashton gets to his feet and pulls Luke up with him, he smiles.

“Someone’s keen,” he says, kicking off his jeans fully.

“Yeah, well, it’s been a while,” says Luke, an edge of indignation to his voice.

“How long is a while?” asks Ashton, pulling Luke close and pressing his lips to Luke’s collarbone. He lets his hands wander down to Luke’s ass and squeezes.

“Like. I don’t know. A week?”

Ashton snorts with laughter. “How is that ‘a while’?”

Luke grins and pushes Ashton lightly in the direction of the bedroom. “Shut up. Just fuck me.”

Ashton’s not about to argue with that. He stumbles backwards, counting on Luke to guide him to the bedroom, but Luke isn't paying much attention to where they're going. He has his lips locked onto Ashton’s neck, and it's really not fair, because he _knows_ that the feeling of his stubble scratching against Ashton’s skin drives Ashton crazy. Still, the sensation of cold solid wood hitting Ashton’s back tells him they've found the bedroom, so he fumbles behind him for the handle and they tumble inside, barely staying upright.

Luke keeps pushing him, further and further backwards, until Ashton’s back hits the far wall.

“You know, there’s a bed right there,” says Ashton, breathless, but Luke’s only response is a shake of the head before he gets right back to kissing Ashton’s neck. While Luke is preoccupied, Ashton reaches one arm out to pick up the bottle of lube, which is lying just about in reach on top of the dresser. He coats his fingers and his dick with an unwarranted impatience and tosses the bottle away, hearing it land with a muffled thud on the bed.

“Slower,” says Luke quietly, and Ashton nods. It doesn’t even matter that his own dick, along with everything else in his body, is begging him to go faster, harder. Luke is louder and far more persuasive.

“You ready?” says Ashton, one hand resting on the small of Luke’s back, holding him close, and the other travelling down to Luke’s hole, one single finger just brushing over it.

The way Luke’s body tenses when he does that, the way Luke presses himself closer to Ashton, the way he inhales deeply, almost shuddering, tells Ashton exactly how slow Luke wants to go. This is a _make it last_ night, a _we’ve got all the time in the world_ kind of night.

Luke nods, his head coming to rest on Ashton's shoulder, lips slightly parted in a way that makes Ashton want to kiss him forever. He can feel Luke breathing, slow, steady and gentle, and his hands stop exploring Ashton's body and settle on Ashton’s hips, gripping tight. Ashton takes that as his cue and presses one finger against Luke’s hole. When he pushes inside, Luke sighs heavily and nods again, so Ashton adds a second finger, as deep as he can.

Luke moans quietly, taking one hand from Ashton’s hip and wrapping it around Ashton's dick. Ashton can't help but moan as Luke starts to stroke him, but he takes his hand from the small of Luke's back and stills Luke's movements.

“Hey,” he says quietly as Luke lifts his head to look at him. “Just...let me?”

Luke nods, taking his hand away and wrapping his arms tightly around Ashton's torso. He lets his head loll onto Ashton's shoulder again, buries his face in the crook of Ashton's neck as Ashton starts to move his fingers in and out of Luke, slow and deep.

“Fuck, I missed you,” whispers Ashton before he can stop himself.

Luke’s only response is a shaky exhale as he shifts his body slightly. It’s like he’s trying to move closer to Ashton, but there’s literally no space left between them to close. Their bodies are flush against each other, their dicks caught between them, rubbing together each time either of them so much as quiver. For Ashton, it’s barely enough make up for all the skin on skin contact that they haven’t had since they last saw each other.

Ashton moves his spare hand up to the back of Luke's neck, his fingers combing through Luke's hair. Luke whimpers and lifts his head slightly to brush his lips against Ashton’s in a lazy half-kiss.

“More,” he says quietly, barely even taking his lips from Ashton’s when he speaks.

Ashton eases in a third finger, and Luke kisses him again, properly this time. Ashton deepens the kiss without even thinking about it -- Luke demanded more, so Ashton’s going to give him everything he can. That's just how they work, that’s how they’ve always worked, and it’s comforting to Ashton to know that Luke still wants more, because he’s quietly dreading the day that Luke stops demanding.

It’s another minute or so before Luke loosens his hold on Ashton and pulls away. Ashton’s first instinct is to pull him back in, because the way they are now is perfect, their lips locked together and their bodies impossibly close.

“Ash…” Luke mumbles against Ashton’s lips. He takes a baby step backwards and moves his hands to Ashton’s upper arms, gently stroking his thumbs across Ashton’s biceps.

“Are you okay?” says Ashton, slipping his fingers out of Luke, his other hand still curled in Luke’s messy hair.

“Just fuck me?”

His voice is turning into that deep, tight rumble, the one that (although he’ll never admit it) makes Ashton go weak at the knees. Ashton nods, because when Luke sounds like that, what else can he do? He grips Luke’s arms the same way Luke is gripping his, and they move in sync, like they’re reading each other’s minds, until it’s Luke who has his back pressed against the wall.

“C’mere,” mutters Ashton, his hands sliding down to the back of Luke’s thighs. As instructions go, it’s not exactly detailed, but Luke seems to know exactly what he means and jumps up, wrapping his legs around Ashton's waist. Ashton has him pinned between his own body and the wall, holding him firm and steady as he lines his cock up to Luke’s hole and slowly pushes inside.

Luke hooks his arms over Ashton’s shoulders, his fingers curling gently in Ashton’s hair. He drops his head forward, and Ashton does the same, his forehead lightly bumping against Luke’s.

“Fuck…” whispers Luke as Ashton pushes in deeper. He grips Ashton’s hair tighter.

“I’ve got you,” says Ashton. “I’ve got you.”

Luke nods. “Yeah.”

Ashton stays still for a moment, as much for himself as for Luke, because Luke feels too good around him, and Ashton knows that once he starts moving he won’t be able to stop. They stay like that for several long moments, and Ashton listens to Luke’s steady, deep breaths. He’s just about able to see Luke’s chest rising and falling to that slow rhythm in the dark, because they didn’t bother to turn on the bedroom light. It doesn’t matter at all, they don’t need to see each other to do this anymore, Ashton can read everything else; the rasp in Luke’s voice, the way his breathing steadily turns into quiet gasping, the feeling of Luke’s hand in his hair and his legs around Ashton’s waist. It’s enough to tell Ashton everything he needs to know.

It’s Luke who moves first, arching his back and circling his hips, and it takes Ashton by surprise so much that he almost loses his footing when the pleasure washes through him. He takes Luke’s hint and uses the rhythm of Luke’s breathing as his guide, moving slowly and steadily. Luke's mouth drops open and his eyes flutter shut as his breathing gradually turns into panting and then into quiet gasps, each one clearly distinguishable from the last.

Ashton keeps one arm wrapped around Luke’s thigh, holding him up securely, and moves his other hand to Luke’s dick. He matches the pace of his strokes to the rhythm of his hips, long and slow. He’s never considered himself particularly talented with his hands -- at least, not in this situation, it’s more Michael’s forte -- but he’s overwhelmingly proud of the noises he’s managing to draw out from Luke right now: high pitched whimpers one moment and deep, low grunts the next.

Luke arches his back again, drops his head forward to let his forehead touch Ashton’s. Somehow, it’s that one little movement that brings all of Ashton’s thoughts in to centre on himself -- it’s the way he can feel Luke’s eyelashes brushing lightly against his skin, the way Luke’s beard scratches against him when they lean in to graze their lips against each other, the way Luke’s eyes are heavily hooded but staring intently into Ashton’s.

It’s the way Luke is wrapped around him in every sense, because Luke is here, now, and it hasn't even been that long but it’s been so long, it’s been too long, and now it's almost too much.

Ashton slows down, he thinks maybe he actually stops moving entirely, but it doesn’t matter. He can’t even tell, because it still feels just as good, because Luke is still there.

“I’m...fuck…” he pants, and his own voice is a surprise to him, because when the hell did he get that far gone?

And then Luke does something, and Ashton’s not sure what, exactly, because all his concentration is going into holding Luke up as he loses himself, but Luke shifts his body in some way, some perfect way, that just sends Ashton over the edge.

It takes a few seconds for Ashton to come back to himself, but when he does, he can feel Luke’s hands on him, the one in his hair tracing patterns against the back of his neck, the other dropping down to meet Ashton’s hand on Luke's cock.

“Ash…” says Luke quietly.

“Sorry,” whispers Ashton, beginning to stroke Luke’s dick again. 

“Ash,” says Luke, a little firmer, and when Ashton looks up to meet his eyes, he sees Luke smiling at him, that lopsided grin of his. He rests his hand on top of Ashton’s, stilling his strokes, and then pushes himself against the wall slightly, loosening his legs around Ashton’s waist.

Ashton doesn’t let go as he lifts Luke down steadily, and Luke doesn’t let go either, his fingers sinking into Ashton’s hips, pulling him closer when his feet are on the ground again.

“You know you’re, like...you know. Right?” says Luke suddenly in a low voice, his lips resting against Ashton’s ear.

Ashton has no idea what Luke means, but he kind of feels like he should, so he just nods and whispers, “Yeah, I know.”

Luke possibly whispers something back, something like “Yeah” or “Good” or “Okay” -- it’s hard to tell for certain, though, because he ruts against Ashton’s thigh and any words he says get lost in his quiet gasps.

Ashton holds Luke tight as he keeps rocking his hips against Ashton’s thigh, his breathing gradually growing louder and shallower. Luke’s fingers are digging into Ashton’s waist, tighter and tighter, until Ashton is certain he’ll leave marks there. 

With a shudder and a gasp, Luke tenses and comes, leaving streaks of white on Ashton’s thigh. He drops his head against Ashton’s shoulder, loosening his fingertips on Ashton’s hips. Ashton doesn’t move, he just keeps his arms wrapped around Luke, quite ready and willing to just stay like this until they both grow old.

After a few moments, Luke presses a kiss to Ashton's shoulder. “Ash?”

“Mm?”

“Shower?”

“Okay.” Reluctantly, Ashton unwraps his arms from Luke and takes a step back, expecting Luke to walk straight to the bathroom. To his mild surprise, Luke takes Ashton's hand and tugs him along too. Ashton is more than happy to just keep going wherever Luke takes him -- in this case, that means joining him under the hot spray as their lips brush together every few seconds and their hands explore each other’s bodies like they haven’t done this a hundred times before.

They finish with Luke taking Ashton’s hands in his own, locking their fingers together and squeezing tight. Ashton lays his head on Luke’s shoulder and breathes in the steam, feeling it come to rest heavy in his lungs. He hears Luke’s voice then, but it’s barely more than a mumble and he can’t make out any individual words over the noise of the shower. After a moment, Luke pulls back slightly to look at Ashton, staring at him like he’s expecting some sort of answer.

Ashton just smiles. It’s not like he has to force it, really -- Luke’s expression of wide-eyed expectation is adorable enough to warrant a smile -- but Ashton can’t help but feel like it’s deceiving on some level. He just knows that Luke is reading too much into it; that much is obvious from the grin he gives Ashton in return.

Without a word, Luke shuts off the shower and they step out, his hand still linked with Ashton’s. He shivers, and Ashton feels like doing the same as the cold air washes over every inch of his skin. He manages to suppress it, though, reaching for the only towel on the rack.

He hands it to Luke, but Luke pushes Ashton’s hand back. “You have it, I’ll get another. They're in the linen closet, right?”

He’s walking away before Ashton can even answer him. Sighing, Ashton dries himself off quickly before tying the towel around his waist and walking back into the bedroom. A moment later, Luke walks back in, patting himself down with a fresh, fluffy white towel.

“I mean, no offence,” he says, “but I don't really wanna use your grimy towel that's been sitting there for fuck knows how long.”

“Okay, firstly,” replies Ashton, ramping up the indignation in his tone, “I don't know what you’re implying about my personal hygiene but I know I don’t like it. And secondly, you just had my dick in your ass. Twice. Bit late to be worrying about getting cooties.”

Luke laughs. “Fair point.”

He yawns widely. Ashton can't help but smile -- he knows Luke was exhausted anyway, but there’s something more to it now. It’s not just the _been on a plane for fourteen hours_ kind of tired anymore, it’s the fucked out and satisfied sleepiness that Ashton has always loved on Luke.

“I’m so ready to sleep for the rest of my life,” mumbles Luke, before heading out of Ashton’s bedroom, his towel draped around his shoulders.

Ashton nods, his smile fading as he watches Luke pick up his bag from next to the door and carry it over to the sofa. As Luke unzips it and rummages around, Ashton tries not to dwell on the fact that he’s not really surprised that Luke has apparently just...chosen to take the sofa. Just like that.

“You can take Cal’s room,” says Ashton. “If you don’t mind the cooties.”

Luke looks up and blinks at him. “Cal’s room?”

“Yeah,” says Ashton. “The sheets are clean. Cal won’t mind. It’s better than you sleeping on the sofa.”

Luke looks down at the sofa, and then back up at Ashton, blinking again as though his exhausted brain can’t comprehend that his body will be able to rest in a proper bed tonight. After a second, something seems to dawn on him. “Oh! No, I was just gonna…” He makes some motions with his hand, pointing vaguely at the bag and then in the direction of Ashton’s room. “It’s just, you know, your room is kinda small and -- ”

Ashton shakes his head. He doesn't want Luke to feel as though he has to excuse himself from sharing a bed tonight, and Ashton doesn't really want to hear it anyway. “It’s fine, honestly. I figured you’d probably rather be on your own tonight. It’s cool.”

Luke frowns, and then nods. “Right. The last thing you want is me stealing your sheets, right?”

Ashton smiles. Luke _is_ the most annoying bedmate but there's something charming about the way he always ends up taking the covers and cocooning himself in them. It invariably ends in a tickle fight, Luke surrendering and reluctantly sharing the covers until he steals them back again in his sleep.

But, Ashton supposes, it probably makes sense that they're taking separate beds now. It’s just the next step after separate flights. 

Luke nods again, and says, “Okay. I’ll take Calum’s room, I guess. I’ll see you in the morning?”

“Yeah,” says Ashton. “Night.”

He retreats back into his bedroom as Luke mumbles “Goodnight”. He leaves the door just slightly ajar and forces himself _not_ to stare at it as he listens to Luke shuffling about in the living room.

He only feels like an idiot when Luke walks past the door and into Calum’s room, but he tries to look on the bright side. He’s been on a winning streak of patheticness tonight, and the stupid hope he’d had that Luke would come into his room and crawl under his covers is just another addition to that. If nothing else, at least he can say he doesn’t do things by halves.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was conceived with [Sick_Banjo](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Sick_Banjo/pseuds/Sick_Banjo) and delivered by [phanjessmagoria](http://archiveofourown.org/users/phanjessmagoria/pseuds/phanjessmagoria), and I can only say a million thanks to both of them for existing.
> 
> Tumblr: [zaf-younis](http://zaf-younis.tumblr.com)
> 
> Title from _Rapid Eye Movement_ by David Cook.


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